Ring Around the Rosie
by Yami Dragoness of Dark
Summary: There were two things Mammon swore she would never say to her boss: I'm a girl, and I'm pregnant. As fate would have it, she had just said both of those things. And she hadn't even told the father yet! Bel/Fem!Mammon for ThePrincessRippper!


OMG! What's this? A STORY! OoO CALL THE PAPERS I AM BACK...sorta. Xiana's story is being rewritten because I canNOT get the damn thing to go any farther as it is now...other than that, I have no excuse for why I have been MIA for so long. Inspiration just wouldn't strike I guess.

Squalo: Or you are lazy.

Yami: Fuck off.

This story is actually a request from ThePrincessRippper who asked me if I, "...could do a bel/female mammon story, maybe one that takes place on bels bday and mammon needs a gift?" Now, I had had a Bel/fem Mammon story floating around in my brain for awhile but I kept putting off actually writing it because it would end up a giant multichapter thing and really, I don't have time for multichapters at the present time. Now a junior in college and working towards studying abroad, freetime is a thing of the past...mostly. Got to find time to read some fanfics and play video games...but mostly no free time...

Anyways, her request got me thinking, and finally I figured I could put the idea I had had down, and be able to keep it from being a really long multichapter thing. It is slightly different than what she originally asked for, but I hope she'll like it regardless.

Title: Ring Around the Rosie

Summary: There were two things Mammon swore she would never say to her boss: I'm a girl, and I'm pregnant. As fate would have it, she had just said both of those things. And she hadn't even told the father yet!

Pairings: Bel/Fem!Mammon, side pairing of Xanxus/Fem!Squalo

Genre: Humor, family

Rating: T for cursing and childbirth and because really, the Varia deserve at least a T rating.

Warnings: Semi OOCness. I tried. But in this situation how do you keep Mammon incharacter? :\ bastard/bitch is hard enough to write as is lol

Disclaimer: I don't own, so don't sue, instead enjoy this pie I baked for you.

Props for beings betas: Great Question and another friend of ours.

* * *

><p>There were two things Mammon swore she would never say to her boss: I'm a girl, and I'm pregnant. As fate would have it, she had just said both of those things, one right after the other, to Xanxus who was looking more than a little startled (and if that wasn't a sign of Armageddon Mammon didn't know what was). What sucked worse than having to say these things to a shocked Xanxus was the fact that she still had not told the father of the unborn child. <em>That<em> was a conversation that was going to end about as well as the Titanic, or a possibly a category 5 hurricane, an epic and exciting start and ending in utter disaster.

Regardless of the coming apocalypse, Mammon remained rooted to the spot in front of Xanxus's desk, waiting for the Varia boss to say something…anything. Well not anything, she did not want him to dismiss her from the Varia because that meant death and as much as this pregnancy was unwanted, unneeded, and completely unplanned; she did not want to die. And she would. Few mist users were physically strong. A miscarriage would kill her, or leave her in a coma which was just as bad because then how would she get money? You cannot make money while you're a vegetable, it just was not plausible.

Back to the point, Mammon waited for Xanxus to speak…or move…or stop looking at her with that look he got whenever Squalo decided she wanted to be girly and wore a dress…and heels…and make up. All provided by Lussuria of course which should be creepy and disturbing but they were all too used to Lussuria's odd habits to really question why he had a fully stocked wardrobe fit for males, females, and all those in-between.

Finally, Xanxus spoke. "What did you say?" He said it not in his deep growling voice where the literal translation of "what did you say" was "repeat what you said then run like the fucking wind or you'll die" but in the way most people say it where it translates simply to "huh?"

"I am a girl," Mammon repeated, the smooth fabric of her cloak clenched tightly in her shaking fists. "And I am pregnant."

"Who-"

"Bel."

For another very long moment, filled with that horrible awkward silence that always seems to follow a big unexpected random announcement, Xanxus simply stared. And stared. And stared some more. With a grunt of resignation, he grabbed his glass of scotch on the rocks and tossed it back. Mammon ducked as the ice filled glass flew towards her head. It shattered against the door with a crash that seemed much too loud for such a small cup.

"Have you told-"

"Not yet."

"…does anyone else-"

"Nope just you."

A paper weight sailed right through where Mammon's head had just been. "Will you shut the fuck up and let me finish you stupid bitch," snapped Xanxus. "Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"…"

"Now you shut up! Fuck it all…" He leaned back in his throne like chair, no longer staring. Instead, he regarded her, eyes taking in the slim, pale face, the indigo eyes under thin brows, and crudely cropped indigo hair. She was not a beauty. The color of her hair and eyes certainly made her look exotic but that was it. Otherwise, Mammon had a very plain, simple beauty to her. How that drew in someone of royalty Xanxus could care less. Except that face had managed to bewitch his second best operative and cause a situation that put his third best in an exceedingly vulnerable position and him in a really weird one.

The Varia had few females. Very few. There was a team of them, number between ten and fifteen at any given time. All were handpicked because of their looks and minds and all were trained to be assassins, using their looks as a tool and a weapon. Squalo, obviously, was not part of that team simply because she lacked the skills to manage undercover missions. Seriously, Squalo undercover on a covert mission in a brothel does not end well. In fact, it was a forbidden topic, right up there with the Cradle Affair and the Strawberry Melon Tango Incident, the latter of which still causes nightmares in mafia members across the globe.

Now, Xanxus found himself in an uncomfortable position. Either fire and kill one of the only people that did not send him up the wall on a daily basis, or let her live and deal with the hell spawn bun she had in the oven.

Needless to say, neither choice ended with him keeping the little sanity he had left.

And it was not much.

Mammon shifted nervously, hands clenched so tightly the knuckles stood out white against already pale skin.

He released a long suffering sigh and put his face in his hand. Life was so much easier before the brat broke the stupid curse. At least then he did not have to worry about what sex Mammon was because it did not fucking matter, he/she had been a fucking toddler for Christ's sake!

Coming to a decision (one he was sure he was going to regret but the alternative was even less pleasing) Xanxus pointed at the door. "Go tell your fuck buddy he just bought himself a fuck-load of missions. The really annoying, boring ones that he can't kill or torture or even scare the targets."

Mammon nodded and hurriedly left the office, ducking instinctively as another office tool aimed at her head flew by. It was a very common occurrence. Now time to tell the father.

.

.

Belphegor was bored. Really bored. And a bored Bel was never a good thing. It meant several things. Death, destruction, lots of annoying laughter, crude jokes, and worst of all...

"_¡Antonio, por favor! ¡Usted debe entender! Era no yo sino mi hermana gemela malvada!"_

"_Amperio hora, sino Monica, no soy Antonio, yo soy… Carlos, hemanastro de Antonio."_

"_Qué?"_

Spanish Soap Operas.

For whatever reason, whenever Bel's boredom reached such a peak that even torture was no longer fun, the sadistic prince would sit in the main living room of the Varia HQ and turn on Spanish Soap Operas. Or soap operas in general but usually they were Spanish. No one knew if he actually enjoyed watching the mind numbing cliché dramas unfold or if he was just so far gone in his boredom that he could care less. His favorites included: _Donde Estan Mis Pantalones?_ _Por Que_? And _As the Kitchen Sinks_. The last was perhaps the weirdest of them, being the only one in English and had absolutely nothing to do with kitchens or sinks. Actually it was about aliens and humans together which made about as much sense as Squalo on a good day: not much.

Today was one of those days where there was nothing else to do, the plane was grounded so he could not go bug the brats in Japan, Levi was on a mission, Lussuria was baking, Squalo was in one of her weird moods, Boss was in a good mood and therefore should not be annoyed and put into a _bad_ mood, and Mammon…

Bel frowned as his thoughts drifted to the mist guardian. For the past few weeks she had been acting strange…er than usual. Mammon was a creature of habit; she had her schedule and usually kept to it. Though living with the Varia and having mist and magic powers in general meant having to be fairly flexible, Mammon had a basic schedule she kept to and as long as the things on said schedule got done, she was content. However, recently she had completely changed her schedule. Or done away with it entirely. All Bel knew was that Mammon was acting strange and avoiding him. He disliked this greatly because if there was one person worthy of his attention it was Mammon. To avoid him was insulting…and cruel. Bel hadn't gotten laid in almost two months now. He was getting desperate…if princes did get desperate that is.

The door to the living room opened.

Ah, speak of the devil, Bel thought, hearing the soft shuffle that always gave away Mammon when she decided to walk rather than float. Normally she liked to float around, being the smallest is a disadvantage she detests now even more than when she was an infant and floating evened the playing field a couple of inches. Recently though, she had been walking more and more.

Mammon came to a halt right behind Bel's couch. Bel waited. Minutes slipped by. Still the mist guardian said nothing. The television program was ending when she finally spoke. "We need to talk."

If Bel had been a commoner, and if they had been a normal couple, these words might have worried the prince, but they did not. Because he was Belphegor. _Prince_ Belphegor. He did not worry needlessly over silly things. Not that Mammon was a silly thing. As an infant they had been best (if odd) friends. As adults they were lovers. Passionate lovers…Lussuria's words not theirs. They were also both part of the Varia. There was nothing _common_ or _normal_ about either of them. Those two words were not in either's vocabulary! Well they were but not in descriptive ways…moving on.

Bel was not worried. He was, however, unnerved. Mammon had sounded…hesitant. Nervous. Anxious. Another synonym for worried. This put the blonde on edge because very little made Mammon worried.

He finally decided to grace her with his voice. "You may speak."

Another long tense silence followed his words. Then, in a small voice, Mammon demanded (actually it sounded almost like pleading but Mammon did not plead so it must have been a demand and he heard wrong), "Don't be mad."

So it wasn't anything life threatening. Then Bel wasn't worr-unnerved! "Shishishi, do not worry, as a prince I can forgive anything stupid you did or did not do." After all, what could it be? Surely it wasn't that bad.

"I'm…" Mammon blinked, startled when her eyes began to sting and her vision blurred. "I'm…" the words caught in her throat. She took a deep breath and tried again with the same result. Hot tears slid down her cheeks. Biting her quivering lip, Mammon took another deep breath. She could do this. She would. With one more deep breath, she told him.

Later, Bel would vehemently deny that he had fainted. It was the shock of not having had breakfast or lunch and getting the sudden news of his impending parenthood that had caused him to momentarily lose consciousness he would say. But he did not faint.

Regardless of whether he really did or not, Bel returned to the land of consciousness with Lussuria playing creepy nurse and waking him with smelling salts. The sun guardian got a punch to the face for his troubles.

"Oh this is wonderful!" Lussuria exclaimed, not at all bothered by the black eye he now sported. "Just imagine, a little baby running around the headquarters! I can already hear the little pitter patter of feet." He let out an overly dramatic sigh, and pressed a hand to his heart. "And the baby will be absolutely beautiful! I can already see it. Shining golden hair, bright indigo eyes, soft creamy skin, and the most beautifulness smile you've ever seen!" Mammon, eyebrows furrowed, mouthed beautifulness, unsure if it was even a real word. Bel shrugged. He did not know either.

"Will you shut up," Levi snapped from across the room. He had returned not long after Bel had been revived and was not in the mood to be regaled with mental images of the demon prince's and twisted mist's love child. It was bad enough walking in on them kissing; the knowledge that they had actually had sex was a thought that necessitated the use of brain bleach and perhaps a few rounds of therapy.

After waking, Bel had sprawled across what he had dubbed his couch and pulled Mammon into lap, content to hug her while watching Lussuria make a fool of himself and Levi turn different shades of green. That proved the extent of the entertainment until Squalo, hearing the ruckus, came to investigate, Xanxus following in his second-in-command's wake.

"VOOOOOOI! What the fuck is going on?" the shark demanded, throwing open the door and storming in.

Lussuria was on her in an instant. "Oh! Squalo! I just had a _faaaabulous _idea!" the fruit exclaimed. "You and Xanxus should have a baby too!" Xanxus, who had been making his way to his "throne" froze. Squalo gaped. "It would be perfect! Two beautiful babies running around, playing with each other. Training together! And imagine if they got _married_! Their child would be _even more_ beautiful!" He continued to rant, oblivious to the petrified look on Squalo's face or the murderous one on Xanxus's.

Bel sniffed. "No offspring of the shark's would be worthy of my child."

For once, Squalo did not argue, instead she let out what sounded like a whimper, turned, and fled from the room, hands over her ears.

Xanxus went for the more direct approach and threw the coffee table at the Mohawked homo.

After waking up, Lussuria continued to imagine and plot for the coming child (children he kept insisting at which point Squalo would flee the room and Xanxus would throw something at the martial artist. The next few months passed in relevant peace in Varia terms. There were still daily fight and many explosions. Xanxus still argued with Squalo, and Squalo still argued with everyone. The only real changes were with Bel and Mammon. True to his word, Xanxus gave Bel the boring jobs. The ones no one else would take because they were no fun. No murder, no contact with the target, no nothing. He came back from those missions in a murderous temper that Levi, Squalo, and Lussuria all suffered and retorted with their usual paybacks of fist fights, explosions, and pink bows.

Mammon walked. A lot. Most pregnant women liked to sit and nap. Mammon walked. A pregnant mist/magic user was a dangerous thing. Powers went out of control; simple things like levitating became dangerous and unreliable. The fetus drained as much magic as it did energy and yet Mammon walked. She walked around the kitchen, she walked around her room; she paced up and down the living room, and wandered the endless halls of HQ until late at night. Usually, Bel followed her during these late night walks. Just in case. After all, a royal prince or princess was in Mammon's tummy. He had to make sure his princess and royal child were alright. When he was not watching her Lussuria was. Or Squalo. Mammon preferred Squalo. Squalo didn't coo or fuss over her. Mostly the other woman just relaxed in the living room with her, watching TV, or walked the grounds.

The baby arrived in a very Varia fashion. That is to say, with a bang and plenty of trouble.

It was a particularly cold and windy winter day four days before Christmas. Outside anything not heavy or attached to the ground was gone. Trees groaned as the vicious winds tried to break the old limbs. Dark clouds in the distance threatened rain. Everyone had gathered in the main living room, a roaring fire in the fireplace. Folders were scattered across the tables and floor. It was how the living room looked near the end of every year. The final year report would be due on the 31st, and that meant checking every mission report to ensure everything was accurate. And there were lots of mission reports to go over. The six were sprawled over various pieces of furniture or on the floor, picking up one at random, giving it a quick check before tossing the folder into the ever taller pile designated as the "done" pile. Mammon was curled up on a couch that Bel had once claimed as his but had since amended it to allow others of royalty (Mammon and the soon to be born baby) to sit on it. Every few minutes, she would shift, trying to get comfortable as another Braxton Hicks contraction hit.

Bel was on what he was certain was his sixtieth folder when there was a deafening crash followed by a slightly softer crash and thud. The lights flickered and died. With a hiss, the heater went off. Somewhere in the house, people began to yell. The unmistakable sound of an explosion reached them seconds later.

Rolling his eyes Xanxus threw the folder he held into the 'done' pile. "Fuck," he growled. Rain began to pound the high windows. "Can this get any worse?"

"Voooooi! Don't say that," Squalo snapped, "that always makes things…" Mammon gave a startled squeak and the nearest coffee table smashed against the wall. "…worse," the shark finished, slapping her palm to her face. "Do _not_ tell me your water just broke."

There was a moment of silence. "Fine then," huffed Mammon, clearly agitated, "I won't."

"Fuck!" roared someone; neither Squalo nor Mammon could tell which of the four men it was since all had just leapt to their feet.

"Get hot water!" Lussuria ordered, trying to take charge. "And towels, and blankets, and a big tub! No! We need to call the hospital and go there…oh dear the roads are probably too dangerous…" he continued to rant to himself, running back and forth while Levi and Bel bolted, hurrying to get the things Lussuria had requested. Xanxus pulled out his guns, charging them as the yelling in the house grew louder.

Squalo knelt next to Mammon, "You okay?"

Mammon nodded, tensing as another contraction hit. "I thought they were BH contractions, didn't even realize…" she hissed, the pain reaching its peak. Slowly, she relaxed as the pain began to subside. Again she shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position.

"Want to try walking around?" Squalo inquired.

Another nod. The taller woman helped her pregnant comrade to her feet and together the two walked around the living room. Levi and Bel returned as the women made a third revolution around the room. "Why is she walking around?" demanded Bel. "The baby could be here any moment." It was a testament to how well trained in composure he was, his voice barely rose above its normal volume.

"This could take hours," Squalo replied, stopping and letting Mammon lean against her as another contraction hit. "She has to be fully dilated before she even begins to push and since it's her first pregnancy, I'll bet my sword it will take awhile." At this, Mammon whimpered.

Squalo had not lied. Mammon's water broke about two in the afternoon on the 21st. Midnight rolled by and the baby still had not arrived. The explosion on the other side of the headquarters and its resulting army of mutant peep chicks had been dealt with. In the living room, Squalo and Lussuria were with Mammon. The others had been kicked out after a crass comment from Levi had turned the living room into a twisted version of the fall through the rabbit hole from Disney's Alice in Wonderland. Now furniture just kept getting tossed about, and every now and then illusions of varying levels of disgusting appeared.

Contractions were coming closer together now and lasting longer. No amount of assurance that this was a good thing made the mist guardian feel any better. When there was barely three minutes between contractions that lasted more than a minute, Mammon gave up walking, and knelt on all fours on a blanket someone had gotten. Her two attendants help her remove her robe and pull on a large t-shirt. "Go get more towels and hot water," Squalo ordered, kneeling next to the younger woman. Lussuria did so without comment. After discovering that none of the males in the entire fucking headquarters could keep their wits about them when dealing with a woman in labor, Squalo had taken over. When Lussuria pressed her for how she knew what to do, Squalo had grudgingly admitted her mother, grandmother, and aunt had all been nurses and midwives.

"About 7 centimeters dilated," Squalo announced after a quick check. "Just three more to go."

"Fuck!" Lussuria nearly dropped the towels and water he carried at the furious exclamation from the normally reserve mist. "Fuck I can't do this! Give me something please!"

"We don't _have_ anything," Squalo replied, rubbing Mammon's back. "So stop acting like a fucking infant and deal with the pain. I've seen women birth triplets and not bitch as much as you are."

"Fuck you!"

"And they were all more creative in their insults."

The men waiting outside the door blushed at the vicious string of swears that stemmed from Mammon's mouth aimed at the shark.

It was 3:57 am when Squalo's cell phone rang. It was Xanxus, asking what all the screaming was about, and how much longer. "She's almost ten centimeters," Squalo answered, "as soon as her body tells her, she'll start pushing. Not sure how long then. Just keep everyone out, she isn't decent." They had relocated to a clean blanket nearer to the fire. Despite the chill that permeated the room outside of the five foot radius of the fire, Mammon had tugged off the large sweat soaked t-shirt. Now she leaned against Lussuria, a thin blanket covering her. Snapping her phone shut, Squalo returned her attention to her patient. "You hear that? As soon as you feel it is right, push."

Mammon glared. "How the fuck do I know when it _feels_…" Her jaws snapped shut and remained clenched as the contraction hit hard and fast. Lussuria let out a yelp as his hands were squeezed almost to the point of breaking. The pain built, Mammon screaming as it reached its peak. The raging storm outside seemed to quiet rather than battle against the noise the pregnant female made.

"I see the head." Squalo announced nonchalantly. "Keep pushing."

"_I. Am!_" Mammon growled, panting and whimpering as her muscles constricted. "Fuck I can't do this. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want a baby. I don't want to have sex ever again."

Squalo waved her hand, unconcerned. "Of course you can do this; it's almost over; yeah you fucking do; please, you can't last two weeks without sticking something in there. Now push."

Levi covered his ears as another earsplitting shriek sounded from inside the room. Around him, other men did the same, some winching. A few were looking rather green around the proverbial gills. No one talked. This was surprising because usually you get a bunch of men with similar murderous tendencies together things happen; death, fights, gambling, poker, Texas Hold 'em, Russian roulette, trading recipes, gossiping about the latest news, discussing the latest episode of Glee…no seriously, Glee was _the_ show to watch. Every TV in the place was tuned into it every time it came on. Of course, no one outside of the Varia knew this. They had a reputation to maintain after all.

Since destroying all the mutant peep chicks, and the gooey cleanup afterwards, the entire HQ, well everyone who was actually there was gathered in the hallways outside where Mammon was currently giving birth. Her squad of mist users was situated as near the door as possible, being very close to their captain. The revelation that Mammon was a female did not sway their loyalties. Mammon had handpicked and trained all of them after all. Besides, she did not yell at them for using their powers to prank the other Varia squads.

It was 4:27 a.m. when the screaming suddenly stopped. The silence that followed felt heavy and oppressive, especially when no high pitched cry sounded. Nervous glances were traded. Bel moved towards the door, pale as white marble.

Then, a small whine echoed from inside the room, slowly growing louder and louder until the brilliant sound of a newborn's wails filled the air.

The door opened. Lussuria stood there beaming as brightly as the sun. "Well come in Mr. New-Father." He ushered Bel into the room and pulled the door shut behind him. Now in the room, Bel looked around. They had moved one of the couches over in front of the fire. Mammon lay on it. Squalo nodded as the prince made his way over.

"Congratulations asshole, you've got a son ." She carefully placed the small figure she held in Mammon's waiting arms. "I'll give you a minute." With that, she left, leaving the two parents alone with their newborn. The infant had fallen silent the moment he was in his mother's arms and now laid there, sniffling and looking up at his mother with curious newborn blue eyes.

"He's little," Bel pointed out, unsure what else to say. And he was, barely 18 inches long, with a bit of blonde fuzz atop his slightly deformed skull (which Squalo would later assure him was not permanent and just a normal result of being birthed). His skin was a pinkish red, and tiny fingers with tinier nails opened and closed against Mammon's chest. When she offered him her index finger, the newborn grabbed hold of it and held on tight.

She nodded. "Yes, he is." Bel reached over, and offered his own index finger. The baby happily grabbed onto that as well. Content in the knowledge he had both parents near him, the newborn yawned and promptly fell asleep. They sat, not speaking just watching their baby breathe in and out, his little chest moving up and down with each precious breath. It was Mammon who broke the silence first. "I forgot to get you a birthday present."

Normally, this would have upset Bel. After all, no one should forget the prince's birthday or forget to get him a present. It was most insulting. However, looking down at Mammon, her hair clinging to her sweaty forehead, muscles still twitching from the hours of exhausting work, skin pale but cheeks rosy and eyes bright as she gazed at the little life that rested on her chest, he couldn't find it in himself to be insulted. After all, Mammon had given him a present.

"Ushishishishi, the princess's mind is obviously tired from all this work. She doesn't realize she did get me a present." He leaned down, catching Mammon's lips in a sweet kiss. "After all, what better present for one of royal birth than an heir to the throne?"

Mammon smiled.

The door exploded. Mammon blinked as small yellow peeps rushed into the room, carrying what looked like a pink marshmallow rocket launcher. Outside in the hallway, chaos reigned as an army of peeps attempted to overpower the Varia assassins. Mammon opened her mouth to say something, paused, thought better of it, and closed her mouth as Bel joined in the mortal peep fight. Mammon had stopped being bothered by weird things and this was not the weirdest thing to happen at the Varia Headquarters. On her chest, the baby woke with a start and began to scream.

.

.

The summer day was hot and humid. Most were either inside or chilling by the pool. Mammon and Bel were outside in the pool. A foot from them, little Anton Magnus floated in his inflatable infant seat, tiny legs kicking determinedly. As far as they could tell he was trying to swim away from them. Instead he just kept going in circles. His eyes had lost their baby blue hue, replaced with bright indigo. Lussuria had been spot on in his predictions, as he was often heard saying. Now six months old, the small baby had grown, he held his head high, acting as spoiled and holier-than-thou as his father did, and often as aloft as his mother, who was also pleased to see a never ending curiosity that she worked her best to appease.

Life was good, Bel decided as he relaxed in the pool. Wife, son, missions where he got to actually kill people, people to torture, what more could he ask for? Nothing could disrupt this peacefulness.

There was a yelp, a shriek, and a splash. Mammon got up and hurried over to the overturned floatie. She quickly righted it and lifted the sobbing baby into her arms. She returned to Bel's side, gently bouncing the infant to calm him down. Soon enough, Anton was laughing.

Yeah, nothing would disrupt this peacefulness.

.

.

There were two things Squalo swore she would never say. I'm a girl and I'm pregnant. The former because if idiots could not tell she was female, then she was not about to correct them, preferring to laugh at the idiots who got it wrong. The latter was sworn never to be said because she had seen women go through labor. After all, her mother's family had a lot of nurses and midwives. She had no desire to go through the hours of pain after nine months of hell. It was obviously men or women were high or deluded whenver they said that pregnancy was a beautiful wonderful time and birth was just as beautiful. Personally, she thought it was disgusting. Plus babies cried and she didn't know how to deal with the little wiggle worms.

Back to the point, Squalo had sworn never to say either of the previously mentioned things. By some sick twist of fate that only some fucked up fanfic writer could come up with, Squalo had just said the last thing and now stood before Xanxus, cheeks bright red, trying to decide if it would be best to run or beg for forgiveness. She did not beg…or run…so she was a little lost on what action to take that would not end in her dying a horrible, burning, flaming, bloody, office supply or alcohol related death.

No options were appearing.

She was screwed.

Or at least she thought she was, judging by the look on Xanxus's face. Rather like someone had taken his brain and left the rest of him. In fact- oh Xanxus was speaking… "…Uh…"

Squalo swallowed. "I am pregnant…and you're the father."

Later, Xanxus would vehemently deny that he had fainted. It was the combination of having been up all night dealing with idiots who did not know how to do a mission right, coming back to do paperwork and then getting the sudden news of his impending parenthood that had caused him to momentarily lose consciousness he would say. But he did not faint.

Needless to say, Lussuria was pleased.

* * *

><p>Is this crack? I think it might count as crack XD And perhaps I over gayed Lussuria...can such a thing be done o_o<p>

And so continues me torturing Squalo. I am such a fucking bitch to him XD

**A/N: **I was reminded (being in college and all) to put in a citation for one part: the parts where Bel and then Xanxus faints are inspired (and paraphrased I shall admit) from another story. Dracophile's _A Girl Like Jim_ in the very first chapter. I spent so long laughing at that part and when writing this and thinking how to make it funnier, I thought of that specific part. And was inspired. So props to Dracophile...and if you happen to like Star Trek: 2009, love Captain Kirk, love Spock, and on a side note love genderbenders, go read it. Seriously, it is hilarious. And amazing, Dracophile has a fun writing style and I have reread that particular story several times. It is that good. Now that the shameless advertisement is over...

Translation for the soap:

"_Antonio, please! __You must understand! It was not I but my evil twin sister!"_

"_Ah, but Monica, I am not Antonio, I am…Carlos, Antonio's half-brother."_

"_What!"_

And if you can guess where "As the Kitchen Sinks" comes from, you get a cybercookie.

Other little tidbits:

Often times, when born naturally, a babies skull, which is not completely fused all the way together, shifts slightly so the baby can get through the birth canal. If you touch the top of a baby's head, it will be squishy. Careful, you are touching a braaaaaaaaaaaain XD lol

First births often take longer just cause it's the first.

Bel's birthday is December 22, if you didn't get that.

Anton is a Scandinavian name meaning priceless, inestimable or praiseworthy. Mammon would approve of this name because to her, her son would be priceless. Also, it is my belief that Mammon was probably born of Northern European descent where magic and pagan beliefs lasted longer since Rome and its Christan beliefs did not reach that far north. I originally thought somewhere like Northern Germany but Hetalia has gotten a hold of me, and Norway (and Iceland) reminds me of Mammon. Plus, of all the nations, only Norway and England (not sure about his brothers though) can see the fae folk and actively use magic (Russia aside), so it seems appropriate to have Mammon be from Norway. And if nothing else, Bel _slightly _reminds me of a short and sometimes creepy Denmark. Denmark/Norway FTW!

Magnus is Latin in origin and means great. This name is one I can see Bel picking out...and I like the name anyways lol. Also, when looking up Nordic royal names, Magnus popped up several times. Seemed fitting.

The peeps:...honestly, it was a random thought that popped up and I went with it. Besides, everyone loves peeps! And if you did not get the mortal peep fight reference go look it up on youtube. Funniest shit ever!

The title:...the story came to me originally when I had taken a vicodin/hydrocodine for some pretty bad pains and was chilling about, high out of my mind. For whatever reason, I sing nursery songs when I take vicodin (which luckily is rare), and Ring Around the Rosie is the one I sing the most. Our dormmates have a video of me walking up and down the hall singing it over and over again and I look and sound creepy as fuck. But I digress. Story title came from that habit of mine...and I couldn't think of a better one XD

So ends another one shot. One I hope is enjoyable for y'all to read. R&R! Now to get working on those other requests -shifty eyes-


End file.
